It's gonna be alright
by Dante Jay
Summary: Saito's past, a Soldier. When a mission goes awry, and the life of a child hangs in the balance, Saito becomes human. Please Review!
1. Chapter 1  Beginnings

Author's note: The phrase " It's going to be alright" has been heartbreaking for me, inspiration for this story.

Note: I don't own Ghost in the Shell or Saito.

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My name is Saito. I'm a soldier.

That means I fight. I'm strong. I don't buckle. I lift my weapon to my eye and fight, because I have a cause, because that's what I have to do. No matter what happens.

We're breaking into a run, as the commander barks our rush into the close confines of the hallway. This whole attack is meant to be a rush and rend mission. That means we get the job done, retrieve the hostages, no matter the cost. The weight of my weapon is nothing as we make our way to our objective.

Rush. We make it to a door. I step back, covering a friend as they brace themselves to break it down. Another soldier, comrade takes a position, same as me, covering the door. A moment of tranquility, before we go in.

" Jakiro, the cops are coming! " I hear a voice. High, male, panicked. A slower, calmer voice laughs. A few barked orders from within - and we smash down the door, charging in! My comrades first, then me and one other, black armour providing no hindrance as the first of us spot the enemy. Rifle to shoulder, pull the trigger. Eyes open...

I spot my first enemy, and my gun barks the reapers call. A spray of blood rewards the hit, the target flailing as he hits the ground, parts of his cyberbrain visible. In that second, two of my comrades have gone down, a shout, as a heavy weapon sings with joy. I duck, roll, and take cover, cursing myself. I look around, and see the last man standing get ripped to pieces by the vengeful enemy.

I'm alone. My unit has fallen. We've failed. I'm pinned down behind a desk, with a heavy gunner shreding the furniture and the blood of my comrades staining my vision as it splatters across the floor. I hear footsteps, coming towards me...

A childs cry.

Fury wells within me. I will complete the mission. I will not let my country down. For victory, or death! With a yell, I stand, shoulder braced against the recoil of my rifle, the vengeance bullets winging to take down the heavy gunner and his comrade. A spray of shocked fire bites my shoulder before I grit my teeth and fire back, my eye of anger stabbing the guilty. The pain is nothing. The child is everything.

Like a storm, I cut down one, two, four and - my weapon goes spinning away. Knocked out from behind, a sharp blow to the back of the head that knocks me down. I kick, trying to take him down, but he moves and pushes me down. Grabbing the child he puts knife to throat and leers... I stop, icy fear snuffing my furnace of anger.

" What's the matter, Hotshot? Not so sure now, are you, BASTARD! " He says, drawing the line. A single drop of blood from the child neck swells, more vital than every soldiers blood in my entire team. A small cry as the child feels pain, a cry that brings a tear to my eye. I'm not a soldier. I'm just a human.

" Just... let him go. " I said, voice breaking. " Don't hurt the boy. "

" Oh, all caring now, are you! So HUMAN? What about my men, what are they? "He says, tears streaming down his face. He's not a monster. He's just trying to...

" Just go easy. No need to hurt the boy. " I say. One slip and the child... The knife shakes.

" I have to, don't you get it! " He shouts. I look, he's younger than I thought, 20 or something. " Otherwise you'll kill me! "

I look around. All his friends are dead... there may be hope. " You're the one holding the knife. "

The man looks down at the sobbing child and the blood on his knife. I hear shouts from outside. I don't know if they're friend or foe. My vision gets sluggish, my shoulder wound bleeding. A little blood trickles down my nose, getting caught in my stubble...

" Just put it down. You don't want to do this. " More shouts, this time they're police. The reinforcements...

The man grits his teeth, panicking. " SHUT UP! " He shouts. " YOU Just... " He breaks off, slumping away from the child, cutting a deep wound across the childs chest. The child screams, the man sinks to his knees as the next team comes in... he's crying, a monster...

The child. I stumble over, taking the boys hand. The wound is too deep. He's not going to survive. The child opens his lips, murmuring. I hold him close. I want to tell him it'll be all right, that he'll make it. That he'll live his life. That he'll come home and see his family. The words are on the tip of my tongue, but they catch in my throat. I can't lie...

I can't...

He won't see his family again. He's going to die. But I need to help him go, to ease the pain. To be the man who follows him through...

" It's " I begin, trailing off. He's not. It's not going to happen, I can't lie... We die alone...

" It's... Gonna be alright, Kid. " I say, voice breaking as my heart beats slower... My heart is broken. My vision swirls. " It's going to be all right. " I say. " It's going to be alright. " I say, slipping away from life. " It's gonna be alright. I'm here for you... "

Blackness. Eternity beckons.


	2. Chapter 2 Reflections

In the final moments of life, I have time to look back... the darkness is inviting. An end to it all. Dark shrouds cloud my vision, blinding my purpose.

But purpose isn't something I need to see. It's a part of me, part of my duty. My duty to others, a salute to life, a ballad to the innocent, is a part of me, the core, the fire that burns from within. And even if the flame no longer burns the ashes will spark and rise against the injustices of life, kindling the spirit anew.

I wake. I'm lying in a white, clean room on soft sheets with a white blanket drawn over my body. Glancing around, I groan as the pain lances through me, the echoes of my past life, waking moments of a hellish dream. Another bed a small distance away bears a sleeping man, young and frowning as the machines around him survey and record. He rolls over to face me, a face tortured with grief and weighed down beyond his years.

With a sharp intake of breath I recognize the man; the young man who held a child to him, knife threatening a mortal wound. Staring intently upon his face, I can see he really is young, early twenties, with too many frown lines for one so young. Glancing down, I see his exposed shoulder, where a mauled area of muscle and flesh marks a hellish wound; I recognize it as that which is inflicted by automatic weapons fire, the type wielded by military and special forces - it must have been the reinforcements, I thought, smiling as my thoughts already had returned to warfare. I'm a true soldier.

With a shock I remember my own shoulder. A flash as the moment plays through my mind, the pain as the bullets ripped into my vengeance fueled body. The child, the knife, the end... Hesitantly, I draw back the sheets and look upon the area to see bandages, as I expected. I reach with my other hand to feel the shoulder, rough, war-stained hands feeling the contours of the healed muscle.

A surge of affection filled me for the people who had acted so quickly to heal me; such speedy action meant I could return to service in a short period of time. Back to the front, I thought...

A slight chime announced the entrance of 2 people, one, a senior doctor, the other, a young nurse with a clipboard. I smiled at the stereotypes, knowing full well that the Nurse may not even be human, but rather a service AI. Careful consideration of her movement pertained a surprising realization: she was, in fact, human, at least in movements.

As she crossed over to the young man responsible for my shoulder wound, she made a move to draw a pen from her shirt, fumbled for a second, confirming her humanity as she reached for a pen that wasn't there. Realizing the pen was in fact already in a holster on her clipboard, she smiled with embarrassment, looking around to see if any had noticed her mistake...

...Catching my eye as I glanced away to the doctor. The man was well over 50 years of age, with a kind, old looking face. He looked back to the man who the Nurse was checking on, nodded with satisfaction, and crossed over to my bedside. Drawing up a chair, he sat down, grimacing as old bones protested against this movement.

" I see you've woken up, Saito; " He said with a kind smile. He fiddles with a machine by my bedside.

" Yes. Thank you for treating my wound so quickly, Doctor. It seems to have healed fast... " I said, trailing off. Had it? Just how long have I been in here? I thought.

" 2 weeks and 2 days now, in case you were wondering. " The doctor said with a knowing smile. " And you can thank Nurse Kayabuki for your treatment. "

" Thanks. Oh... " I said, thinking. Glancing over to the nurse again, I felt faint memories of touch... " Where am I? What's he doing here? " I asked, nodding towards the man.

The doctor chuckled. " You're a soldier, I'll give you that. " He says. " You're in the Lycieum Government Hospital, where public servants are treated. It was set up a while back for a number of reasons, including specialized expertise regarding military injuries, industrial accidents, cyberbrain feedback, and also to help keep said injuries less public. "

" His name is Kodo. He's a native Japanese student who's lived a difficult life - he's here because he wound up on the wrong side of morality and was injured by gunshots after the hostage situation where you almost died. " He finishes.I glance over, the hellish scene playing through my mind, his panic stricken face as he feels the lash of regret and pain. Alone, confused, desperate... Not in control.

" I see. " I said. The older man may not look it, but he sure is a smart man - probably has seen many men like me. " Thank you. "

" I understand you may feel resentment towards Kodo, but I ask you to keep that in check. " The Doctor said. " We're tight for space as is. Kodo's actions were wrong, yes. "

" Yes? " I asked.

" Yes. But the young man was not entirely under his own control. Medical Analysis and Cyber analysis shows unusually high amounts of the compound commonly known as Amnesia pills, which, in large amounts cause a negative feedback leading to targeted aggression. Kodo's cyberbrain had been altered to contain targets for this aggression... " He said.

I looked over again at Kodo. A flash of memory, his panic stricken face and the grief that swelled within when he...

"...leading us to believe that the leader of the terrorists intended to exercise basic mental control over his subordinates. Kodo's behavior was partly to gain acceptance within the Terrorist cell, partly influenced by the pills they took daily to ' keep them strong ' I would imagine. Forgetting your past and living on a chemical high makes people susceptible to emotional turmoil, allowing aggression against the enemies of the terrorists and devotion to other members, in particular the leader, to emerge. "

" Love and Hatred. The two strongest emotions. " I said.

The senior Doctor smiled. " Perhaps. They are the ones that will rise when the mind is confused. However, do not underestimate the other emotions. "

" Yes. " I said. " Are we talking chemically or psychologically? "

" Chemically. Psychologically, I do not pretend to know. In this age, cyberization leads to some confusion between the chemical emotions and the psychological emotions - of course, psychological emotion is starting to be stronger. "

" Is that good, or bad? " I asked.

The Doctor checked his watch. " Much as I would love to discuss this, Philosophy tends to siphon time away from more important tasks in a hospital. I must attend to other patients. "

" Of course. How long till I can go? "

" Not long now. Nurse Kayabuki will resolve your injuries and give you the answer. "

" Thank you, sir. " I said.

The doctor gave a nod and left. Leaning back, I thought about what he said, but most of all, I thought about the child.


End file.
